


Somewhere in London

by Edalari, Mansurovacool



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, An Experiment, Change of entity, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, John/table, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Other, Romance, Sherlock/lamp, changing of reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 10:05:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16910910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edalari/pseuds/Edalari, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mansurovacool/pseuds/Mansurovacool
Summary: It is a kind of a warm Christmas story with unusual Sherlock and unusual John and a nice happy end.  I hope a lot I managed to create the cozy atmosphere of Edalari's story.





	Somewhere in London

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Edalari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edalari/gifts).
  * Inspired by [В одном особняке где-то в Лондоне](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/438840) by Illy. 



> A translation of "В одном особняке где-то в Лондоне" written by Edalari. The permisiion for the translation was asked and given in written form. I was taken and facinated with this little story and I wanted to share it with you. All mistakes and failes are consedered to be mine, not the auther's ones.

John didn’t like his new place at all. All the furniture placed in the flat was made of clipboards and plastic. And all the furniture was really intimidated and broken. When John greeted them rather politely, all his new neighbours hissed at him and it was a wardrobe without one door which ordered him to shut up immediately. It was a rude four-letter order.

"Are you really one of these….? How is it…..? Oh, are you antique? " the wardrobe squeaked and the plastic étagère giggled obsequiously.

John realized that it would be much better to stay upstairs, at the attic but followed the given advice and decided to keep silence.

He didn’t make any friends in his new company. He reminded a nice tray and resonant porcelain cups which were such a great companion to change jokes and news with. They always told about life in the kitchen and in the dining room and John told them about events in the living room. He remembered the time when he allowed himself to dream about a wonderful mirror, which might be put on him. Oh, such a nice mirror it was! It was fit and slim with bronze frame decorated with a rich ornament made of flowers and leaves. It was not just beautiful but gorgeous. John watched it from time to time but not very often. John was a modest coffee table and the mistress never put the lovely miracle on him.

But he also remembered the worst day in his life when his leg was broken. It was the day when two cups and a saucer were crashed and poor John couldn’t find any excuses for himself after his friends’ death. He was banished to the attic and took this as a deserved punishment. He never thought that it wasn’t he to be blamed but the mistress’ sun who kicked his leg and broke his good and solid wood.

Alas and alack, but it a spitted, always drunk glass with an endless line of his bottle-friends and an ashtray-tin were his new companions . The new mistress often missed her ashtray and put her cigarettes’ out of John’s table top. It was rather painful and his nice golden wood was covered with ugly scorched spots and caustic bourbon stains.

And one day John wasn’t able to cope with a pain from another cigarette. He wobbled and dropped the glass with a new bottle and the tin on the floor.

"Hey, you, damned rubbish! " yelled the mistress and in an hour John found himself at the nearest dump.

That was the moment when John realized that it was the end of his rope. Had his wood damaged and killed by the raindrops, the death in the fire would be the best end for him. He tried not to think about some worse variants. The only hope was that he was made of cedar, and it was considered that cedar could resist to the wood decay for a long time. But for that moment it meant only the longer torture for John.

But you know, the miracles happen. It was a real miracle and there was no other word for John to name it. The car passing by stopped and a man got out of it and rushed to John, looking at him with a mixture of amazing and distrust. He tenderly rubbed the table desk, dropped something on, rubbed one more time and said as he was deeply astonished,"It’s cedar! Really…O my God…"

John was carefully loaded into the boot and taken away. The only thought of the little piece of furniture was that it couldn’t be worse than it was and he might have a happy chance.  
Yes, it was true. The fortune smiled at John. He was taken to the little room where he was washed with unknown liquid and his wood began to shine with dark gold. The ugly damaged layer was taken away and the naked table desk was polished firstly with special oil and then waxed.

John was blissfully happy. He was never surrounded with such care . And even the image of the pretty mirror he was so loved in returned to John’s mind. What a pity the mirror couldn’t see him now! At the moment there wasn’t any shame for this beautiful thing to stand on John. The table even forgot about his broken leg and didn’t wobble while his new master was restoring him thoroughly.

Several days passed and John was moved into the house. He liked the big living room from the first sight. Especially he was delighted with the wallpapers with dark lilacs printed on them. He was placed near a big soft armchair which seemed to be very good-tempered.

"Morning! " greeted the armchair immediately. "You’re welcome! Nice to meet you at last! Our master’s has recently talked a lot about you. Could I introduce myself? I’m Martha. I’m the oldest here. Our master even calls me a hose-keeper. But it’s a shame that he can’t find any time to check my left back leg. It awfully squeaks and aches for every change of weather."

John answered joyfully:"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Martha. My name’s John and you can’t imagine how happy I am to be here."

The talkative armchair was pleased and rustled with the brushes of the cover.

"I hope you’ll not be disappointed. Oh, here he is! It was exactly what I thought."

And a lamp was put on the John’s table desk.

John lost his breathe and voice at one moment. He hadn’t ever seen such a handsome thing. It was a white porcelain . vase decorated with black and blue ornaments and a tender lampshade made of decorative glass…

"Afghanistan or India?"

"Afghanistan, " babbled John in astonishment. "But how could you…"

"Oh, it’s obvious," stated the lamp. He had a charming deep voice. "It’s your special smell – you are made of cedar wood. You’ve nice golden colour, specific brown lines, your density is a little bit less than the Siberian one. So the only conclusion can be you’re made of Himalayas cedar -Afghanistan, Pakistan or India."

"Oh…, " John wasn’t able to say anything more." It’s amazing."  


"Do you really think so? " asked the lamp . He was flattered a lot with his words.

"Brilliantly! " exclaimed John. "Wonderfully!"

"My name’s Sherlock, " John clearly heard the deep pleasure in his voice.

And it was joy to make him wobble.  


"What’s wrong with you leg? " instantly asked Sherlock .

"Oh, my Lord !" John was terror-stricken.".Sherlock, I have my leg broken! You can fall down!"

"Don’t worry and keep calm! " said Sherlock." If you fall, try to drop me onto Martha. Our master will be here in a moment and I’ll get his attention." 

He turned himself on and blinked . John stood still in amazing but the next moment his fear and depression returned. He tried to do his best and stand steadily. He hoped that at least he would be able to let Sherlock fall onto the soft and nice armchair.. The man came, frowned, took Sherlock off the table and sat to examine John’s legs.

"The crack! Here it is! " said Sherlock proudly.

John was completely ruined. He was sure he would be send to the attic again. Everyone would be disappointed in him including kind Martha and Sherlock. Certainly, he had no right to stay in this cozy room.

He was so despaired that didn’t feel anything when he was picked up and taken out because there was no way to lose hope more. But Sherlock’s shout followed him, "I’ll be waiting for you, John!"

"What can he wait? " surprised John inertly. Such a marvelous lamp as Sherlock was could never be send to the attic. He was created to shine. He would be given another table, new and intact, without any broken legs, without cigarettes burns or suspicious spots and stains, which hadn’t ever known the taste of the dust of any attic, which was not blamed for his friends’ death. Another table would be amazed by Sherlock’s wisdom and appearance and would look properly in his bright light. And John would always remember the moments when the nice proclaim touched his surface and long for his lamp until the burning in the fire for unnecessary things. The only miracle which might happen was that John would be burnt in the big fireplace of the nice living room and he would have the last chance to watch Sherlock one more time from afar…

And then his back leg began to itch. John came to his senses and realized that he wasn’t taken to the attic or to the dump and that nobody was going to chop him to make firewood. He was being repaired.

He couldn’t believe himself. Could it be true that he had a chance to be returned to this wonderful living room? And Sherlock... Sherlock promised to wait for him. And certainly Sherlock had been living there for a long time and was exactly informed what was their master able to do. And a little hope flashed deep in John’s heart and it could be noticed that this light of this hope was suspiciously the same as the light of one handsome porcelain lamp.

The next evening John was returned into the room. Martha congratulated him. Sherlock kept silence but he was shining so brightly that John realized that Sherlock was glad to see him again. And when the thin porcelain touched the wood of the table desk John was really happy.

Life continued its running and nice days passed by. John stood proudly and steadily on his place near the soft chair and enjoyed himself being a safe stand and support for Sherlock. The noble cedar wood demonstrates all its strength and beauty under Sherlock’s light and pointed the grace and refinement of the lamp. Sherlock made him meet the other pieces of furniture.

"That inflated stand lamp in the corner is my brother Mycroft. His shade was also created in Tiffany’s technique, but you can see that mine is more elegant and balanced. He hardly speaks to somebody as he considered everyone to be an unworthy fool, and called me an idiot because I spend my life lighting the master’s armchair for his rest. But I know the secret. Mycroft dreams to be a table lamp. He wants to light the workplace. Look, he will burn out due to his indignation. Mycroft, don’t use such high voltage! Less! Less! Do you see him twinkling? It is closely connected with the worktable . It is made of nutwood and his name is Gregory . He stands in the study. I also stood there earlier. But Gregory is a little bit blockheaded and the master’s job is boring. It’s more interesting there!" 

John listened to Sherlock and enjoyed. He completely agreed with every his word .

In the evening the master sat down into his favourite armchair and read books on his hobby – the restoration of old furniture and things. Sherlock could read the human books too and often read them aloud to astonished John and made his endless comments.

And Sherlock was able to play some music. John really didn’t understand what the beautiful sounds could be heard over him. It was found, that Sherlock had and old glow lamp with a tungsten filament. And he could affected on it by changing the voltage. The tungsten filament sang the tunes composed by Sherlock in a low voice .

Besides Martha and Sherlock John made friends with Molly. Molly was a modern plain white tea mug – very common. John was very surprised as he was in habit that all the things in the house were old and repaired or restored by the master or his friends. He didn’t get acquainted with an old Wedgwood china tea set because it was used only in the dining room. But in the moments of rest his master preferred making tea in a simple mug. Later John found out that it was a special story between the master and Molly, some kind of their own secret. John liked Molly as she was modest and shy. And she was in love with Sherlock. John was sure that it was impossible not to be in love with Sherlock and understood Molly. And Sherlock gave his light to everyone in the living room but John was illuminated in the best way and he was proud of this a lot. And he was happy.

One day the master brought a chandelier. John didn’t like her at a glance. Black and glittering, she lewdly gave winks at Sherlock with her naked lamps. Her bright and harsh light outshone all the other lamps in the room. Mycroft was angry and blue and John felt sympathy for him – the poor thing wasn’t turned on for some days. And then the chandelier twinkled too expressive and the master took it off and away. Everyone was very glad and even Sherlock whispered to John that he was afraid of being eclipsed by the bright parvenu. John answered that nobody could ever outshine Sherlock in his heart. And only John noticed that Sherlock’s light on his surface was tenderer than it ever was.

And then a misfortune came.

The misfortune looked like a thin black cat, small but cheeky . John didn’t like it at first sight. The impudent animal jumped into the room through the open window and had a look around. In John’s opinion, the look of the yellow eyes was very unpleasant. The cat mewed in a nasal voice and walked round the room and visited every corner . Then he sniffed Mycroft and scraped the floor near him. 

Sherlock chuckled and explained that that was the to demonstrate all the depth of the cat’s scorn to Mycroft. And it was the first time when John wanted Sherlock to stand mute because it seemed that the cat heard his words. He moved to John, jumped on the table and snuffed the lamp.

"Please, Sherlock, keep silence! " whispered John and Sherlock – thanks God – followed his advice.

The disappointed cat jumped down on the floor and suddenly Sherlock said loudly, "Shoo!"

John groaned faintly. The cat quickly turned round, and hissed at Sherlok. It was a very malignant hiss. The cat looked at John up and down and devil’s lights danced in his eyes. With a deceptive innocent tender movement the cat stretched to John and the next moment it began to scratch and tore the golden cedar wood with his sharp claws. John cried as it got out of habit of any pain. And Sherlock yelled,"Leave John alone! Off you go! Shoo!"

And then … John wasn’t sure what really happened. If it was the cat to push him badly or…  
Or it might be Sherlock trying to protect him …. And made an impossible movement…

The frightened cat ran away through the window. Mycroft had his lamp burst. Martha began to bewail sorrowfully. And only John kept silence and looked at the debris of the most handsome lamp lying on the floor near his scratched legs.

The master ran into the room, exclaimed something, picked up the framework of the lamp and took it away, returned with a brush…. John was standing still. He was gazing at the last piece of porcelain, touching his wounded leg with the last endearment. 

The days changed one another. The master changed the lamp and wiring in the stand lamp. Mycroft tried to talk to John but he kept silence. Martha was troubled a lot. She did her best to get him talking. But John gave no answer, no reaction at all. The day when the master put another lamp on him was the day when John realized that his life had no meaning at all. The new lamp had a china shepherdess as a basement and her coquettish lampshade was made of fabric. She told her name was Mary and she wanted to make friends with everyone. Mycroft unwillingly said two words through clenched teeth. Martha chattered in a manner which could be named friendly only for those who hadn’t ever heard her conversations with Sherlock. The Italian sofa named Angelo sighed and tried to keep the conversation, and he did it instead all of them.

John kept silence. He couldn’t do anything against the new lamp. He thought that she was heavy and cold but he wasn’t able shake her off.

 

And a tiny debris of blue glass of the broken Sherlock’s lampshade was still lying unfound under his scratched leg.

And days went by. And John realized that miracles can happen sometimes.  
One day the master took Mary away and returned to the living room carrying …Sherlock in his hand. All pieces of furniture gasped with surprise and then in solemn silence watched their master put Sherlock on the table, plugged him in and pressed the button.

 

If the man was able to hear the storm in the room, when the lamp switched on, he had all chances to become deaf. All the things yelled and shouted from joy. Only John and Sherlock were silent.

"To cut the long story short , I’m alive, "said Sherlock at last.

John murmured: "No porcelain now"

"No, " answered Sherlock guiltily." The master made me everything in bronze. And he had to change half of the glass pieces in my lampshade."

"If you jump down off me one more time…" John stopped speaking significantly. To tell the truth, he had no idea how to continue.

Sherlock chuckled gently. It seemed to John that he realized something. Then Sherlock noticed with false indifference:

"A Mary stood on you…"  


"Really, I haven’t noticed, " answered John honestly.

Sherlock didn’t answer at all but he shone especially brightly.

They are still standing together in one nice mansion somewhere in Chelsea . And only John knows all the changes in Sherlock after his falling. The bronze basement made him more balanced and self-confident. And his bronze can get tenderly warmer and this warmth is only for John. A new energy saving lamp unfortunately doesn’t give any possibility for Sherlock to compose his tunes.

And due to the tiny cracks and spalls in the old pieces of glass, Sherlock shines not so perfect as it did before, but more romantically and cordially.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very grateful for your reading, attention and kudos as they are very important for me. And please, be generous and give your kudos for the author using the link https://ficbook.net/readfic/7569249


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